The Truth Comes Softly
by DelusionAll
Summary: An enterprising biochemist is pulled into the magical world to assist Voldemort in achieving immortality.
1. Chapter 1

Clarissa heard a knock at her door, but decided to ignore it. She was at a tricky point in her research, and she couldn't get the math to work, no matter how many times she re-worked the equation. The knocks became more insistent, but still she resisted answering. If it was important, they'd come back later, or call. Not that she was answering her phone, either.

She heard faint sounds outside the door, and thought, "Good, they're leaving, now I can get back to work." To her astonishment, however, the door burst open the next second, and a tall, pale man entered. He looked somewhat like a vampire, and her first thought was a rather hysterical, "I thought they had to be invited in!"

She backed up against her desk. "Yes?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking. She clenched her hands together to keep them from trembling.

"I was outside for several minutes," the man snarled. He stepped closer and she got a better look at him. His hair was long, dark, and had the familiar greasy look of a serious chemist. He looked too young to be a grad student, and none of the undergrads had access to her home address.

"I know," Clarissa answered. Now that she saw his age and had guessed his profession, she was far more confident. "I wasn't answering for a reason. I'm quite busy. Now, you look desperate, something I understand well--"

The man drew himself up haughtily. "I am not desperate," he spat, "simply unaccustomed to waiting for inconsiderate _muggles_…"

"What did you call me?" Clarissa asked, laughing a little. That was a slang she hadn't heard yet. "Never mind. Look, this is a tremendous breech of privacy, but you should have seen me while I was writing my thesis…" her voice trailed off as she gathered her thoughts. The man looked most impatient. "Anyway, give me your name and contact information, and I'll see what I can do to help you out."

"Unnecessary," the man said. "You will be coming with me."

"I will not!" Clarissa exclaimed. The nerve. "I told you, I'm right in the middle of something. I'm willing to try and assist you later, but I need you to leave. Now." Instead of leaving, the man began walking towards her, and she backed up as much as she could, until she was practically sitting on her desk. "I will call the police if you don't leave immediately."

He grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her to him. She collided with his chest with a thud. "Ow," she exclaimed. "Let go right now, or I'll scream. My neighbors and I are very close."

"I'm sure," he sneered. "Now you will want to stay very still."

"The hell I will!" she positioned herself to give him a swift kick. All those defense lessons had better pay off. But the man grabbed her tightly around the waist and brought his mouth near her ear.

"You should," he whispered. It was almost sensual, the way his breath caressed her ear, and she shivered involuntarily. "If you aren't perfectly still, we may end up with bits of you scattered about the continent."

Clarissa wondered at that, and he reached into his pocket. A moment later, she couldn't think of anything else as a sharp tug originated in her navel and pulled her sharply. Then she could see nothing at all. Invisible wind whipped at her face. There was a sensation of rapid movement, without any means of propulsion, and she had a feeling that they were traveling quite a distance. Her scientist's mind dispassionately recorded all of the sensations, while her rational self was freaking out.

They landed with a thud. The man released her, and she went sprawling. The floor underneath was cold rock, certainly not her third floor studio. She raised herself up on her arm and looked around.

And incredibly handsome man stared down at her. Despite his appearance, she was getting really bad vibes from him. Not someone she wanted to be with, and her skin crawled. "Well done, Severus," he said.

"Thank you, Master," the man--Severus--said.

"What…" she croaked, and then stopped and swallowed. "What is going on?" she asked, her voice stronger. "Where am I?"

"Why, you have a privilege no muggle ever has," the man said. He spread his hands expansively. "You are in the home of Lord Voldemort, and you will live to see tomorrow." He paused. "If you serve me well."

Clarissa had to work to keep from laughing. "Lord Voldemort" was him, obviously, and what a preposterous name. He spoke with a clipped, aristocratic accent that still managed to sound fake to her. Severus's sounded far more smooth. This was a cult, she was sure, and this Lord Voldemort was the leader. Severus must have slipped her a hallucinogen, LSD perhaps, in her room.

"The police will find me," she assured them. "I'm a very important person," well, that was overstating it, but she continued, "and I'm close to my family. They won't give up until I'm found and you're brought to justice. Release me now, and I'll forget this happened." She tilted her chin and glared in a way that made freshmen wet their pants and seniors weep.

Lord Voldemort merely chuckled. "I'm so very frightened!" he exclaimed mockingly. "Do you hear that, Severus? American muggles are looking for us. Dreadful, we should return the girl at once."

Severus gave a laugh Clarissa knew was forced. "Yes, Master."

Lord Voldemort went back to looking stern. His eyes…well, if Clarissa wasn't a scientific woman, she would have said they glowed. Her breath caught. He was not sane. "Severus is going to show you around," he said. "I advise you to do everything he says, and nothing that he doesn't. I have no qualms about killing you. There are a dozen people who could take your place. From this moment on, the only thing keeping you alive is your usefulness. Take pains to remain useful." Then he turned, his robes swishing dramatically, and left. His ornate boots clanked with each step.

"Get up," Severus said. He didn't offer her a hand.

Slowly, Clarissa stood. She had a dozen questions, but the look in Severus's eyes kept her mouth shut.

"Let's go," he said. Clarissa followed him out of the room.

oOoOo

"And this," Severus said, "will be your quarters during your time here." He opened the door, and indicated that Clarissa should enter. He followed her inside.

For the first time during her tour of the expansive base, she spoke. "Severus," she started. That was as far as she got.

"You will address me," Severus hissed, "as Mr. Snape, or Sir. I did not give your permission to call me by my given name.

Clarissa was taken aback. She was used the informality of the lab, where only assholes were called by their last name or title. But Severus--no, Snape--looked furious. "Yes, Mr. Snape," she said coolly.

"You need to remember," Snape said, "that here, all of your accolades and accomplishments matter not at all. You are a muggle, next to worthless. Most are skeptical, if not hostile and suspicious, of your being brought here. You will address those you meet and work for with the utmost respect, and realize that you are below all of us here. And let me assure you, if you address the Dark Lord as anything less than Master or Lord, it will be the last thing you do."

There was a long silence as Clarissa digested this. It was suddenly cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. "I understand," she whispered.

Snape nodded. "Books have been brought for you. You will need to read up before starting tomorrow. You are so far behind to be worse than useless, but the Dark Lord insists on using your skills."

"But I still don't understand what I'm doing here!" Clarissa exclaimed.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I'm not at liberty to explain."

"Look, Mr. Snape, I just need some idea. You pull me here, and I still don't know where we are or how I got here, then expect me to help you do something to stay alive and I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS!"

"Not. At. Liberty." Snape said through gritted teeth. "I expect you to have a better understanding of your place here in the morning." He turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Even though Clarissa knew it would be useless, she tried to turn the handle, but it was locked tight.

"Damn," she sighed, and leaned against the door. She surveyed her new room. There were no windows, and the walls were a pale gray. A small, black table was against the wall, with a tall-backed chair next to it. Against the opposite wall was a bed and a few blankets. Several of her clothes were folded next to it. She gave a brief thought to how they were able to transport her clothes, but that was certainly the least of the weirdness she'd experienced. A bare toilet was in the far corner, with no partitions for privacy. A sink was next to it.

She sighed. It was certainly bleak, a far step from her cozy studio in downtown San Francisco. She missed her kitty, Freedom, and hoped that when her students realized she was missing, someone would stop by and feed him. She could have used his silent comfort in this place.

Near the table was a bookshelf, almost overflowing with texts. She walked over to them. Some of them seemed new, with white pages and new covers, and some seemed as though they would fall apart in her hands, pages yellowed and covers bent and stained. There was musty, dusty smell, as though they hadn't been used in some time. She picked one of the volumes up.

"'Potions in Action: Useful Potions for the Everyday War.' Well, that's just silly," she said. But she didn't want to die, and Snape looked serious about her reading the books, so she flipped it open and sat at the table. The chair was as hard and uncomfortable as it looked.

By the third page she was giggling. "Magic potions?" she thought. "Really, in this day and age. Well, I suppose a cult would believe crazy things, nature of the beast, and that Voldemort fellow is certainly not right." She set the book down and grabbed another: "Magical Maladies: Common Ills and How to Brew Them."

"I'm sensing a pattern," she said aloud. She started reading, and sure enough, it was more about these magical potions. Nasty ones, it seemed. She slammed the book shut with a shudder when she came to testical hives.

The yawn caught her by surprise, and she realized that she was quite sleepy, not surprising considering the day she'd had. Well, it wasn't like reading those books was going to help; she still had no clue what was going on. She crawled into her bed and was quickly asleep, not even bothering to change her clothes.


	2. Chapter 2

She awoke to the sound of Snape entering her room, without even a knock to warn her. She sat up in bed, pushing her bangs back with an irritated gesture. "Oh. So it wasn't a dream." She stretched a bit and groaned.

"Get ready," Snape said curtly. He pointedly turned his back, obviously intending for Clarissa to get dressed with him in the room.

"Pervert," Clarissa muttered, but got out of bed and walked to her small collection of clothes anyway. She considered the few articles that had been brought, then decided on a simple pair of blue bell bottoms (she thought the bright colors and embroidered flowers might make her feel better) and a white peasant blouse. She tightened it especially high on her chest, not knowing what kind of men she'd be meeting and not wanting extra attention. "I'm ready," she said when she was decent, and bent down to tie her shoes.

Snape looked her up and down, somewhat disapprovingly she thought. "Tie your hair back," was all he said, though. "We'll be working the laboratory today."

This was something Clarissa understood. There was a tie in her pocket, and she grabbed a brush from her purse. She would have liked to be able to have a few minutes and brush through all her hair, as she could feel several kinks, but Snape looked impatient. Quick with practice, her blond hair was soon in a long braid that reached to her waist. She grabbed a couple pins and pulled her bangs back.

Snape gave her a curt nod. "You'll do," he said, "though you may wish for some robes later on."

"I don't think so," Clarissa muttered. She was stuck with this twisted cult for now, and would help them to stay alive, but she sure has hell wasn't going to start acting like them.

"As you wish." Snape opened the door and held it open for her. She walked through, and brushed his arm as she passed. Both of them grimaced and jerked apart. Snape followed her through and the door slammed shut behind him. Clarissa jumped.

Snape stepped in front of her and began walking. She hurried to keep up. "You are now aware of your purpose here, of course," he said.

Clarissa bit her lip. "Um, no actually. I was hoping you could explain it to me."

Snape stopped and turned to her slowly. "You read the books?" he asked.

"I did," she answered. "Well, some of them."

"Really," Snape sneered. "And still you don't understand your purpose here? Well, what can you expect from a muggle?"

Clarissa didn't say anything, but hoped he would explain. After a moment, Snape resumed walking, and Clarissa followed. "The Dark Lord," Snape began, "has a long and intricate information system. His reach extends to America and beyond. He was informed, late last year, of research that you are pursuing."

"My research," Clarrisa said flatly.

"Useless by itself, of course," Snape said, waving his hand dismissively. "However, the Dark Lord believes that when combined with certain Potions, you may well possess one of the keys to his immortality."

Now it was Clarissa's turn to stop. "You can't be serious," she said. "Magic potions? They aren't real, Mr. Snape. Neither is immortality."

"Isn't that what you seek in your studies?" he asked. "The key to immortality."

"No," Clarissa said. "I'm a biochemist, specializing in pharmaceuticals. I seek to find cures for illness and genetic disorders, not stop death altogether."

There was a silence, then Snape said, almost hesitantly, "I have a potion that can stopper death."

Clarissa laughed. Snape glared. "Stupid muggle," he said. He walked off, and Clarissa had to hurry to keep up.

"That word," she said. "What does it mean?"

"Muggle?" Snape asked. "It means non-magical. You."

"Oh," Clarissa shrugged. "It's not an insult, than."

Snape chuckled, darkly. "It is an insult. One you are obviously too ignorant to comprehend."

"Right," Clarissa muttered. "Look, if I'm so ignorant, what do you want me for? I don't know a thing about potions. I don't know a thing about immortality. I'm not trying to be difficult, here, but I honestly don't know what you expect me to be able to accomplish."

"I certainly don't have the time to teach you," Snape said. He gave her a considering look. "You'll work as my assistant until such time that you're ready to begin your own research."

"Research..."

"Into an immortality potion, as I said," Snape said, impatient. He stopped in front of a heavy oak door with a gold plated knocker. "POTIONS LAB" was engraved in a frilly, girlish hand over the door. "Here we are," Snape said, unnecessarily. Clarissa just nodded, not seeing a reason to respond.

There was another woman inside. She would have been quite beautiful if it wasn't for the pinched, rodent-like expression she wore. Her blond hair was pulled up in a loose coif, and tendrils fell in curls around her face. Her eyes were a piercing blue, with long lashes that gave depth to her pale face. Her robe, rather than being loose and flowing like Snape's, was fitted tight and stopped several inches above her knees, showing off long legs incased in black boots.

"Narcissa," Snape said. His voice was warm. "You're up early."

"You know I can't sleep when Lucius is away," she said with a slight, endearing pout. There was a genuine friendliness between them, Clarissa sensed. "I started putting things out for the day. Can't trust the muggle to do it," she said, acknowledging Clarissa for the first time with a small sniff.

"You don't need to do that," Snape said. He came up behind her and took a cauldron out of her hands. "In your condition..."

"My condition!" Narcissa laughed. "Severus, I'm only a month along. I wouldn't even know I was carrying if it wasn't for Lucius making me take that blasted test." She patted her flat belly. "It'll be months before little Morganna makes me stop working."

"A girl this week, Narcissa?" Snape asked. "Lucius insists it's a boy."

"Oh, I hope not," Narcissa said. "Boys are nasty. No offense, of course."

"I was never a boy," Snape said. "I emerged fully grown."

"Your poor mother," Narcissa laughed. Then, catching Clarissa out of the corner of her eye, she snapped. "What are you doing standing around like that? There's work to be done. We haven't much time."

Clarissa stiffened. She still wasn't used to being given orders. "I'm awaiting instruction..." her voice trailed off. She hadn't a clue what to call the woman.

Narcissa understood. "Mistress Black," she said. She laughed, a gay, twinkling sound that seemed out of place in the dank lab. She waved a hand in front of Snape's face, showing off the large, obvious diamond on her finger. "Not for much longer! A week until I'm Mrs. Malfoy." She dropped her voice. "Mother is furious, you know. If we wait much longer, she thinks people will say Lu married me for the baby. Totally untrue, of course, but we simply haven't the time what with one thing and another..." She laughed again. "Well, it won't matter what people think. They'll be too afraid to say it, anyhow. That's the beauty of marrying the second in command to the Dark Lord."

"Yes," Snape murmured. Clarissa could tell he was uneasy.

"Hmm. Well, I've got to go, darling. I'm supposed to help Bellatrix with the robes. The silly slut spends so much time making eyes at the Lestrange boy that she doesn't get a thing done." She laughed again, and kissed Snape on the cheek. Then she glided out of the room without giving Clarissa another look.

"That was Narcissa," Snape said. "Don't make the mistake of thinking she's harmless."

"I won't," Clarissa said softly.

"Hmmm." Snape looked around the room. "Well," he said, "I suppose I should get you aquatinted with the set-up here. I hope you had adequate sleep last night. You're going to need it."


End file.
